Bloodlust
by WarlordKyle
Summary: Kyle works on a painting for the new prince. (Gregory/Kyle) One-shot.


Not _completely_ canon to VtM, but enjoy

* * *

The dreaded sun had disappeared from the horizon an hour ago and Kyle didn't lose a second to continue his work, barely watching the stars and the city like he usually did when he woke up. Those would not help for inspiration today.

His arms were smeared with blood, his hands stroke across the canvas with precise skill. Even if he had no breakfast, the sweet scent of his blood didn't distract him. Kyle was no ordinary Toreador artist by any means, he was unique in the vampire world. He painted with his own blood.

Kindred lined up to commission a painting from him. Not that he was complaining, he enjoyed being sought after and it brought his damned soul joy that these cretins still appreciated true art. Besides, since he was one of a kind, he could always ask for extra payment, and that was needed for the outrageously expensive designer clothes that filled his wardrobe. Oh, it was impossible to live without the newest trend.

But he wasn't getting extra cash for this painting, no, for this one there would be a special reward. It was for the new prince of the city - also the new leader of their Camarilla organization. And of course, it was another Ventrue, the most noble clan with excellent leadership qualities.

Yet Kyle didn't usually get along with Ventrues, or particularly like them, but Gregory of Yardale earned his trust. Perhaps love among vampires was unusual, but not for a Toreador. After all, their clan was closest to the living, they still knew what real beauty was. There was nothing Kyle did not find perfect about Gregory. The looks, the manners, the power, he could immobilize Kyle with fascination sometimes - Ah, what a man! Kyle would follow this Ventrue to the end of the world if he'd wish it. He was not naive though, aware that Gregory was a manipulator and knew how to please him. But was Kyle any better? He could see that Gregory had a soft spot for him. As long as the prince gave him anything he wished for, Kyle would remain devoted, and that meant mutual trust.

Un-life wasn't any easier, Kyle worked hard to stay ontop. Their old prince, Eric Cartman, had not been as cunning as he thought he was, and his weakness for Kyle was his downfall. Staked and burned to ashes by the sun. Kyle would lie if he said he hadn't once been loyal to the bastard, but only because he had been the prince. That was until Gregory arrived and made Kyle his right hand, something Cartman would have never done. Gregory, who was superior and stole Kyle's dead heart.

Thinking about the other vampire helped his inspiration and concentration, and he soon finished the painting with the Camarilla symbol, and this time he was satisfied. As much as he loathed to, he worked on removing the other twentysomething canvases he thrashed. "Dreadful! What was I thinking?" Kyle could barely look at those failures, he clenched his fists before burying his face into his hands. What a waste of his precious blood.

Cleaning the blood from his hands and arms didn't take too long and he spent the rest of the time picking a better outfit. Kyle changed into an expensive salmon blouse with tan leggings and a lime scarf (quite the fashion statement), when he heard knocking on his apartment door. That must be his anticipated guest. Kyle hurried to open it, to lay eyes upon the blond vampire, who looked like perfect craftsmanship himself, as usual.

"Greetings." Gregory often spoke like an old person, and it made Kyle feel young. He himself had only been born in the 1800's, but even that was older than most vampires around here. Gregory wore a suit that made him look modern, in a navy color. How delightful! Kyle had recommended him that one the other night. At all times he insisted that beauty owned the best outfits, and he felt flattered that the Ventrue would wear that to visit him; and Gregory knew it would.

Kyle had to snap out of it, and he smiled when both of their silver eyes met. There was a possessive desire in Gregory's eyes, hunger even. A hunger Kyle shared, and he could already smell his blood from where he was standing.

"Come in, I just finished," Kyle lead him to the living room and he heard Gregory clear his throat. They had to remember why he was here, it was business.

Gregory sat on the couch and Kyle handed him the painting. "I must say, I have outdone myself. I spent an entire week working on the details and the intensity of the color, and this is the result," Kyle claimed with his chin up, as if there was no doubt, and he was slightly insulted when Gregory spent at least a minute examining the picture. As if it took that long to see pure perfection.

"Yes, it's flawless. You've done an excellent job, just as I expect from you, Kyle," Gregory said, placing the artwork down carefully, a hand moving to Kyle's cheek. Kyle could hear a tone of arrogance in his voice, as if he knew his little whelp would always obey, no matter what the prince asked of him. Kyle did not mind the power play, in fact, he thought it was charming. But he was looking forward to his payment.

Kyle scooted closer, carefully placing a hand on Gregory's knee. "That means you're satisfied," Kyle said quietly. It wasn't even a question, he was more asking for permission. As expected, Gregory understood and nodded, and Kyle could already smell his blue blood. That rich blood that will sate him for a week. Gregory had the courtesy to place his wrist into Kyle's mouth without any hesitance, as if he still wanted to give rather than let Kyle take it. Kyle bit down slowly as an act of great respect, but drank the blood greedily. His body began to heat up in this moment, his eyes wide, it had been so long since the last time he drank such exquisite vitae. This was true ecstasy, he felt it and did not stop.

It made his head spin, every vein in his body alive from being filled with the other's blood. Kyle lost track of time, he was so out of it that it took him a moment to realize that Gregory had interrupted his feeding. Then he kissed him eagerly, as if he'd been waiting for the right moment, licking his own blood off Kyle's lips. "Don't. It's a business visit," Kyle tried to say. The Toreador should have known, as hungry as Gregory looked, his eyes now glowing white. Kyle grit his teeth and gave Gregory a dark look, furious that he was denied his reward that he had worked so hard for! The bastard! How unfair! Selfish! But none of these curses could escape his mouth as Gregory grabbed him tightly, holding him against his chest. He removed his scarf roughly, as if it displeased him that it was there. Kyle could soon feel the tongue on his neck, and he gave a loud moan when those long fangs bore deep into his flesh, much more passionate than Kyle had been. Gregory was a true beast in human skin.

Gregory pulled Kyle into his lap, and Kyle struggled violently, baring his fangs, completely agitated from being fed on without a warning. Gregory put a hand into Kyle's pants, touching along the hard length, making him arch his back.

Kyle wailed by now, from pleasure and from anger, and when he got a hold of himself again, he did the same to Gregory. With a hiss, Kyle bit into his neck and this time drank just as brutal as the other. Kyle wanted to give him everything, wanted to kill him and consume him, wanted him inside. But he could not reach his cock, although he felt it hard against him, grinding his ass on it.

The motherfucker couldn't just ask, he had to take it from Kyle with force. It was just to get pleasure out of overwhelming Kyle, who'd never say no if he was asked.

And that was no challenge for Gregory.

However, he was the first to let go, and Kyle followed. Gregory gave his precious Toreador bloodied kisses along his neck. His face was a mess and it looked so erotic knowing it was Kyle's. Gregory made no sounds at all, but it was obvious how much he tried to restrain himself, while Kyle was wheezing over here, crying for more.

"Fuck me," Kyle demanded, in desperate need. The remorseless act of drinking from each other was no longer enough. For Kyle it was as if there was a hole inside him, an itch that couldn't get scratched. He needed to be penetrated, but that gorgeous dick was still trapped in those pants when it could be inside him, filling him with come. Gregory knew this would happen, just as he had planned it, Kyle could see that now in his delighted expression as they both stared at each other with their bloodstained faces. He didn't care, he wanted him.

Their pants were quickly opened, and Gregory removed Kyle's with utmost care, unlike the scarf, so calm and composed while Kyle was losing his mind, almost like a Malkavian. The eagerness made him want to bite him again.

"Be patient," Gregory said ever so charming with his amused smile, while Kyle was trembling with his hard dick in his hands, the blood hot in his veins. And when he was finally, finally done and shifted, Kyle was able to take a good look at his length and mouthwatering foreskin. But Gregory didn't give him enough time to examine it, he grabbed Kyle's legs and lifted them, lowering himself to shove his face into his ass enthusiastically, to stimulate his hole with his tongue. He continuously licked over it and Kyle writhed in bliss, moaning everytime Gregory's tongue swiped over the sensitive spot, up to his balls and back. Twitching, squirming, his body betrayed him.

Soon, the licks turned into kissing, sucking even, and Kyle saw stars as he could feel the fangs brush against his skin, the tiny nips he received inbetween. But before he could come, Gregory stopped abruptly. Kyle wanted to plead at him to continue, yell at him for torturing him like that.

"Get on your stomach," was all Gregory had to say for Kyle to obey.

Lying down with shaking legs, Kyle licked his lips, unable to lie still. He was waiting for the long fingers opening him gently, but that was just what his body wanted. His mind knew it was lying, his vampire self wanted something else. Gregory held Kyle down, and he had not expected him pushing against his hole with such force that Kyle shrieked. "Oh god, oh my god," Kyle bit down from the stinging he felt, a feeling that soon turned into luscious pain that made his body shiver. Gregory gave him a suggestive smile, he craved that torment and also fed on Kyle's.

God. Kyle hated himself for loving this, that behavior of total control and confidence. He wanted to play along with the Ventrue's perverted urges. Never would they hurt each other seriously, he knew that.

The prince was not cruel for long, he bit his own wrist and used the blood as lube, which helped slightly. There was proper lube in the bathroom, but who cared about that? That would just ruin everything, ruin the bloodlust they both felt.

Gregory pulled Kyle closer again, licking over his shoulder and neck, spreading his ass with one hand. Kyle was hoping he would lose it a little. He felt like prey, like raw meat, but that's what he loved to be for Gregory so often, especially during intercourse.

Now Gregory entered him gently, on purpose, as slow as he could. Kyle could scream at him, tear him open and eat his guts until he no longer existed. He attempted to push down, but Gregory held his thigh.

"You're a fucking bastard, you know that, right?" Kyle hissed, his mouth twisting into a snarl of hatred.

The Ventrue kissed him along his jaw, to the corner of his lips, a vicious sneer on his face when all of a sudden he pushed his whole length inside which made Kyle twitch and whine.

Gregory exhaled, only to emphasize a dramatic sigh. "Some discipline wouldn't hurt you, you're much too eager."

"Shut up, I need you to fuck me," Kyle groaned, not in the mood for this talk at all. But Gregory loved to tease him, finding it adorable when Kyle begged for it, crying in need.

And he did as he was told to, give his whelp what he needed, relentlessly fucking him just the way Kyle had been lusting for for weeks. He moaned with every hard thrust, head lolling, nails digging into his couch without care. His mind was empty, he couldn't think, could only concentrate on the pleasure that went into every part of him. Gregory held him, his hands wandering over Kyle's chest, his thighs, until they gripped his cock firmly, pumping him. Then he bit into his arm, his shoulder. Kyle spread his legs, overwhelmed by everything he felt and Gregory softly hissed into his ear, almost losing it from the sounds Kyle made. Kyle turned his head and trapped Gregory's neck between his teeth, once again feeding, until he came hard all over himself with a scream.

They kissed again, cleaning each other's blood in the process. Kyle made sure to be as aggressive as possible while Gregory still fucked him, towering over him like Kyle needed protection.

Kyle was dazzed, letting out gratifying sobs again, and his hands went through Gregory's hair with a shiver when he moaned into Kyle's ear, unloading deep inside him.

The rest of the night they spent naked in Kyle's bed, touching each other, exploring any areas they couldn't during their bloodlust. Until they were forced to sleep, since the hated sun began to rise. Kyle loved Gregory, more than he'd ever be able to put into a painting, and he'd stay at his side, until the sun was no more, until the Antediluvians rose from their slumber and devoured them whole.


End file.
